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Mercy

The Unique Flavours of the Boulanger

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Mercy    484

The Unique Flavours of the Boulanger

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As usual the same adventurous girl would be running home with her finely crafted leather brief case crammed with homework and constantly falling over herself whilst she was at it, sometimes resulting in scraped knees. It didn't matter if she wore pants or a skirt, she'd always end up with a new mark on her elbows, knees or hands. Her chestnut brown hair pleated into fishtails, which dangled each side of her shoulder at chest length, her blue eyes gazing through like the clouds in the sky on a summers day. Eléonore wrapped her hand around the golden knob of her mother's bakery, filled with the customers qued nearly up against the wall; patiently waiting for the fresh hot goods out of the oven. The room filled with the beautiful aromatic scent of croissants, still warm in the core and drizzled with the freshly made lemon icing to finish off the job. As my mother placed the tray down on the marble table she swiftly turned on her flat shoes, somewhat covered in flour on her pink apron. Eléonore's mother was a petite woman but her baking was good enough for any man or even woman to fall in love with. Her mother believe that food was how she expressed her love after Eléonore was born; she said that because her constant relationships with men would never last and therefore she never believed love was expressed in relationships but in her work, a work she enjoyed with every piece of her excluding Eléonore. Her mother gazed down to see her daughter with the wide grin spread across her face like soft butter, a missing front tooth to finish it off. “Bonjour ma belle fleur comment était l'école?” Her mother smiled with the pure French accent, her hair slicked back in a tight ponytail with specks of flour dotting her hair with white. Freckles covering from each side of her ear as she wiped the sweat from her forehead with a cool towel before washing her hands of the floor and throwing it in the laundry basket in the back room. As she served each customer Eléonore replied, “School was fine maman, myself and Sophia got detention at break time again because of Lucas... And extra homework...” Eléonore groaned with the frustration of punishment she didn't think was fair to receive. Her mother tried keeping her frown to herself but it was more obvious now to Eléonore when she was hiding her emotions, the slight turn of her mother's lip as her lips turned in thinner than before could tell she was holding back. She replied, her tone more softer but concerned to why her daughter received punishment, “Qu'est-ce que Lucas do?” Eléonore made her way to the counter, lifting it so she could have access behind the counter and placing her leather brief case in the back room next to the laundry basket. “He pushed Kristea over and she thought it was us...” She scoffed whilst rolling her eyes, making her way to the basin and pumping a handful of soap into her hands. Lavering up the soap she over heard her mother serve the customers without another question about her detention time. As she turned the cold steel of the tap it burst out cold water, making Eléonore flinch in reaction. She turned and returned the hot tap off, sighing with defeat, “Maman! The tap is doing the water thing again!” Her mother replied for her daughter to hear in the back room, “Je vais appeler quelqu'un pour le faire réparer!”

Eléonore wasn't a big fan of anything technical at school, she hated maths, English or any other subject which didn't have artistic tendencies. Her mother would continue teaching her different recipes until she knew how to make them and help in the bakery. The more recipes she learnt the more help and less stress her mother had. By the time Eléonore was nineteen she moved out of her home and opened up her own bakery in a small town near Paris. She believed it was a high trafficed and well placed area to open up her own business because of the tourists to go and see the attractions and would purposely leave the door open in summer time for the people to smell the soft scents of her handmade goods. But things weren't going as smoothly as Eléonore expected and ended up finding herself in finacial debt. Her business was not as popular as her mother's back in her home town and the rent for her shop/apartment was sky high. Ending up leaving the barely-just-made-it adult to find out a solution to fix a problem she had made. Luckily she managed to have friend's and locals to advertise her work after small tasters and leaflets, which helped her build enough money to pay off the debt but also help her move somewhere else. She heard her childhood friend Sophia had moved somewhere called 'Chernarus' and had met a man named Teodor. With the money she had she went to go and visit her, which did her more good than she thought (at that time...). Meeting with her best friend Sophia changed her life ; Teodor was mainly busy working to create a better life for not only himself but for Sophia and lived in a home bigger than what a rich man would live in as Eléonore would see it. Golden curtains draped to the floor, floors marbled with a pearl colour and a grand piano to finish of the rich taste of a fine living lifestyle took Eléonore's breath away. A dream which Sophia seemed to be living in. Sophia questioned Eléonore about her home, her business and then realised something. Something she hadn't seen yet in Chernarus but had heard about it from local newspaper. A baking competition AND that she hadn't seen a proper French bakery yet and how she missed the good times where Eléonore would take her mother's croissants with the lemon icing to school for them to chow down at lunch time. It gave her an idea, if her business wasn't working as much as it was in the small town her business was in maybe it would be better in Chernarus. Her eyes perked up with a gleam of thought, she had a good feeling it would work. Baking was her heart and passion, and she wanted to share the love she had in her food to those who had never tried the true French baking. 

In 2013, Eléonore managed to find a small building already renovated with the potential needs for her bakery at a cheap deal including it being her own home on the second floor. Sophia bought a 'house welcoming gift' of all ingredients she thought Eléonore would need to start up and it was a big help. In no time she managed to start up her bakery, from the outside it looked like a nothing but inside it was like a realistic Willy-Wonka's chocolate factory. Filled with cakes and breads of all kinds, the fresh scents of the loafs attracted all ages, men, women and even children who spent their pocket money on a butter-icing cupcake. The business was going good and Eléonore had her eyes set on the prize as most would say but she forgot reality, she forgot about her family – her mother. Her mother had developed parkinson's disease in her old age and suffered from a haemorrhage in her brain from a non visually spotted stroke. Eléonore was not informed but many people in her homeland tried contacting her, trying to get her to come to her mother's funeral but it was too late. On October 8th the CNBS reported details of a terror night which riddled Eléonore into fear in her own home. Closing both her bakery down and the renovation of her restaurant to come to a complete halt until she knew things were going to return to a normal day. She was wrong, very wrong. A few days, close to a week later things got worse. A lot worse. Around about October 12th reports of people attacking others in streets and a wide-scale of destruction and chaos as ruptured in Zelongorsk and Drozhino. A few days later incidents about an unknown infection had spread. Putting the fear into the pit of Eléonore's stomach, it turned like the roller-coaster she seemed to be riding on with the constant bad news reports she kept watching on her television. The occasional loud fist banging against the metal shutters at the front of her bakery made her jump out of her place, curling herself more into a fetal position of defence than anything. As she tried to ring her home or even Sophia the line would beep in denial. As the days went by the more car alarms went off, the more screaming echoed against her window and the more banging fists against her shutters would occur. 

The baking competition was off, well to what Eléonore thought to herself with her paranoid mind. And indeed the baking competition was off ; that was the end of something to look forward too. Like her famous Soupe à L’oignon or her childhood memories of croissants with different selections of her own icings for the judges to of tried... But it never happened.

Eléonore held her cup filled with nothing but the last remanding part of pop drink she had left, spite, staring with the restless eyes at her bedroom door praying no one would burst into her home. Her mind wandering about how her mother was. How Sophia and where Sophia was, but her phone didn't ring. No familiar voices shouting outside of her window. Nothing but the paranoia twirling inside of her twenty-five year old head. The faces of her loved ones, the dread thoughts of if they were dead and if they even though that Eléonore was still alive... It was brought to her attention one evening with the burning amber glow appearing outside of her window for her to build the courage up to check outside. As she travelled down her stairs cautiously opening the shutters, the roads and the whole of Balota was quite but in the distance she saw flaring flames of fire burn in the distance of Chernogorsk, dark clouds from the fire travelling up into the pink sky. She realised that most buildings had been broken into or shattered glass from the windows. As Eléonore turned around she bumped into a tall structure, a male, fear building inside of her core as she tensed with every muscle in her body. It was a civilian, a local buyer to her bakery, he covered her mouth as she tried to talk but it was darker now than it was minutes ago and she couldn't tell it was a familiar person. Just a dark figure in the night. He spoke quietly, “No questions yet, follow me. We have to get you out of her, but first grab anything you can from your shop. Food, water, clothing or bags.” Before she was dragged off into the forest, without another word. Trying to hold back any cold sniffles from the turning season of what felt like winter and her heavy restless footsteps to prevent unwanted attention...

And this is where her journey began... Now all she had to do was find Sophia and Teodor to make sure they were safe before hopefully catching a boat or plane home to her (deceased) mother...

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Goku    61

Great Story Skel. Can't wait to see how this character develops.

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Roach    1513

I really love how you transition into your own story with what happened is nicely done on your perspective. love the character so far too. Now can she bake some Canolis for Tony? hehe

Loved the story and await some more :)

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Mercy    484

Chapter 2

The decayed leaves crackled beneath Eléonore's feet as herself and the stranger travelled with the few sacks of food and water. The petite figure of Eléonore wasn't use to the whole travelling and hiking in the forest, especially when she barely had an idea what was going on. The unknown male spoke to her, “I know everything may seem confusing right now, but I assure you have some sort of idea, ano ?” The cold toned eyes of Eléonore stared at the tall dark silhouette with the chernarussian accent, recognising somewhat the voice. A slight frown furrowed in her soft features as she replied with a questioning voice, “Non... Monsieur Dimitri, what on earth is happening ? The news...” Dimitri cut her off with a stop in his steps, placing the supplies beside him, hearing the struggle in her voice as she tried to talk to him. She plopped the supplies she was carrying beside her with a slight pant. Dimitri replied, “It's happening like those god-damn video games about dead people. It was all jokes to people until it actually happened.” His voice rough with anger as he grabbed the other bags from Eléonore's side, now carrying four bags wasn't a struggle to him but slowed him down a little more than it should of. Eléonore's eyes narrowed to the dark ground, lit by the moonlight ; she felt a little bad that she wasn't as useful in strength, even a small cake was difficult for her to move about.

In the distance the trees were lit with a soft tan glow, a fire. “Finally...” Dimitri panted with a slight heavy breath but it wasn't noticeable. As Dimitri and Eléonore arrived at what seemed to be a camp-fire with few men, woman and children, all eyes landed upon her. Curiosity peaked in their eyes, woman question with fear in their eyes and the children who looked like they had been crying hours upon hours. Eléonore slowly raised her hand whilst in the tense situation, her cheerful tone was soft towards the strangers and finally seeing Dimitri's full appearance. “Bonjour... My name is Eléonore... I own... I guess use to own a bakery in Balota...” One of the child's face perked, overhearing the word bakery but Eléonore didn't recognise with her overtired conciousness and paranoia swirling in her head like a tornado let loose. One woman stood up with an smugly upset look, her voice also native to the lands of Chernarus as she let go of her little boy's head. She spat like she was disgusted at Eléonore for introducing herself in such a manor, “Listen ! I do not give a fuck about your stupid fucking bakery !” The woman's voice was broken as she began to break down into tears, her face looked already dehydrated and mascara which smudge down her eyes and cheeks. “I lost my husband ! My little girl and my little boy ! Now it is only me and my nephew ! My sister died from being attack by one of those things and all you can talk about is your fucking bakery ! ” Dimitri snapped his head toward's the woman, a deep crease deepens in his forehead as he yelled at her with their native language, “Leona ! Stop being such an emotion bitch !” But Eléonore could translate what they were saying, after all it was a requirement for a business woman as herself to learn a language of a place she was going to be spending her life on... permanently. 

“Madam...” Eléonore softly spoke with an empathetic voice, she made her way around to the lady, Leona and placed her cold hand on the woman's shoulder with a touch which was so gentle it was almost as if she wasn't touching her. “Sit...” The demand seemed more like a question from the French woman, she could feel the woman shaking with the heartbroken emotion she was attempting to hold back, “Trust me.” Eléonore glimpsed a upturning smile to indicate that nothing she said had offended her. The woman dropped back and sat on the wooden log she had been sitting on before, probably infested with woodlice or spiders. But Eléonore wasn't going to mention any of the gruesome things to people who look like they had been dragged through hedge. Eléonore took a kneel beside on of the bags she had packed, pulling out a few small plates and a plastic box sealed with croissants inside ; another plastic box was pulled out with her special lemon drizzle icing. She served each person with a piece of her bakery goods, one by one she visually saw everyone's physical posture loosen with relaxation and less worry on their plate.

Eléonore sit by herself, nearly to the darkness fading amber glow of the fire. Her knees up to her chest as her chin rested on her bony knees; she stared down the hill of the forest with a blank look on her face. Inside her mind all she could think about was her best friend and mother. The more she thought about it the more she began hallucinating the screams of them, like they were being hurt by something. Her breath began to pace with panic like she was slipping into an unneeded panic attack, jumping out of the so-called daydream trance she had put herself in with the heavy touch on her shoulder. She jumped, her legs sprawling as she grasped herself on her hands and knees with panic. As her eyes travelled up to see the semi-light silhouette of Dimitri. “Mind if I sit beside you Baker...?” His voice politely asked as her body slumped back into a seating position, she sighed with relief. “Oui, monsieur Dimitri.” He glanced down to the French woman, holding back a smile. Her slumped himself down on the leafs covering the dirt of the ground, “Dekuji...” Eléonore turned her head with confusion, wondering to why he was saying such a thing, “For... For helping out back there... You...” He chuckled out a laugh, mixing his words and stuttering a little, scratching the dark set of hair which covered the whole of his head. Eléonore quirked a brow, chuckling in response as her thick French accent replied, “I didn't do anything... I guess I should be thanking you for saving my life...” His eyes met with hers before looking behind him to see the civilians caught up in the mess sleeping silently with a stomach filled with food that looked like hadn't been fed in a few days. “You should rest.” Dimitri commented as her looked back towards Eléonore run down face, it was true, she did need sleep. A lot of it. She shuck her head, replying with the body language 'no' brought a slight disappointed look on Dimitri's face.

He reached behind her and quickly pulled the bobble down from her hair, letting the ponytail drop down to her waist with the long, slightly-greasy chestnut hair. Eléonore reacted with a gasp, unable to express what was going on in her head as he did what he did. She had never been physically touched by a man other than exchanging money when selling her bakery goods. He gently spoke to himself without noticing he was speaking out loud, “Beautiful...” Eléonore squinted her dry eyes towards the man, knowing exactly what the word meant ; it frustrated her knowing that the chernarussians didn't think a French woman knew how to translate and speak chernarussian. “Wha-” He cut himself off, pulling himself off track of the subject he was first on with her, “OK, if you go to sleep I promise I will do my best to explain everything further AND give your bobble back...” Eléonore sighed with the heavy chest she was carrying, picking herself up and making her way closer to the camp-fire and leaning against the tree, resting her eyes she pretend to sleep. Again daydreaming about her close ones before passing out unconscious into a deep sleep without knowing until she woke up the next morning.

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Guest   
Guest

get start to a great story, details that made me hungry for bread, and very immersive. good job Helena :)

I look forward to seeing your new character in game, we never play anymore :(

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Mercy    484

Chapter 3

The harsh cold breeze which hit across Eléonore's bare face made her shrug, her head bobbled back and fourth as it rested against the old mossy tree. The tip of her nose a soft pink and her cheeks patched with a darker shade. Her eyes slowly opened with a blurred vision, rubbing the thumb and index finger until she could view properly. Across from her sat Dimitri, holding some sort of rifle as he polished it like some sort of new born baby of his. Eléonore was surprised to why on earth he was holding such a weapon, she immediately shut her eyes hoping it wasn't for her. Hoping he hadn't of seen her in his proripheral vision but he had, he greeted her with a thick chernarussian accent, "Morning. Sleep well? There is no need to worry, the bullets and gun isn't for you." She slowly exhaled from her nostrils as her chest lowered, feeling the lump form in her throat from the worry she had put herself into. But was she to blame? 

She opened her eyes again, Dimitri was a broad muscular man (a slight stomach on him) covered in a lumberjack outfit. The camp was empty, everyone from last night had left. "I told them to go." Dimitri noticed Eléonore's curiosity as her eyes scanned the place down to the pitted ash in the middle of logs used as seats the night before. Two bags were missing, the two mainly filled with the food and water as well as her bakery goods. A small groaned escaped from her small baby shaped lips as she sat herself up, managing to crack a few bones in her body as she stretched and a large (enough) yawn for a bird to rest in. "I also instructed them to take some food." He replied, eyes never lifting from the large metal clump sat in his lap. He loaded what was a magazine into the rifle as it clicked and snapped into place. "We best get moving..." Still talking to Eléonore as she slowly awoke from the deep sleep she had come from; goosebumps covered across her body from the winter-turning season. Dimitri collected himself on his feet, towering over the small French woman, offering a hand to help her up to her feet and realising the small bumps lined across her pale skin. He sighed, unable to see such a large hearted woman to look so vulnerable and confused. "Hold this." As he was about to give her the rifle he flicked the safety on, she took it in her hands and nearly being weighed back down to the solid ground. He quickly grabbed her under arms as support, "You got it?" His voice slightly concerned with her unstable balance, she nodded to him as she started getting a feel to the weight. He slowly let go of her arms, wary that she was lying and end up sprawled across the dirt beneath their feet.

He took the tartan patterned flannel shirt and covered her, she purred to the immediate warm from what was from his body as he began to button the baggy top-like-dress on the woman, Eléonore. "Merci..." She finally answered, shivering violently until her body finally felt a little bit more warmer than before. "And this..." He pulled the bobble from his wrist and gave it her back, she messily pulled back her hair and tied it into a bun. "Long story short." Dimitri took the gun back as Eléonore rotated her shoulders clockwise and anticlockwise to gain feeling back in her numb muscles. He continued his sentence, "There was some sort of patience... Something about infecting and now we're living in a... A... A zombie apocalypses kind of..." Eléonore's eyes immediately shot to Dimitri with a joking face, like it was some sort of joke. She replied with a chuckle throughout her words, "You're joking, oui? This isn't one of those stupid cheesy zombie horrors." Dimitri's face kept a straight and stern look towards her, her face dropped with realisation as she thought in her head which she also spoke out, "Oh..."

The pair carried one bag each, easily enough for the fragile woman to carry without losing her breath as quickly. They came across a road finally, a town abandoned but in the distance what looked to be a multiple amount of deformed humans, limping and dragging one foot behind them; they were slow and not so intimidating as Eléonore though. "There has to be a working vehicle somewhere... Non?" Eléonore commented as she saw a few vehicles jolted about in angles of all kinds, Dimitri nodded to her. A slight warning before they walked as he extended his arm in-front of Eléonore, "Take it slow... They're not as.... Vulnerable as they look..." This took Eléonore into a more nervous wreck than she first was before all this happened. "We're meeting the rest at Pustoshka." Dimitri stated as he began to walk slow, the closer the pair got to the town the more slower they became. The more their footsteps turned into a heavy boot to a ballerina step. Every vehicle that they passed where either a piece of trash compiled on the ground or out of gas, this only pushed them further into the town and the more the arrived into the town the more they could metaphorically say they felt the breath of the dead lurk across the napes of their neck. Eléonore's body shifted with a slight change, from comfort to 'I want to get out of here' uncomfortable. From a distance Eléonore thought she could smell something different in the air, it was strange, but the more she found herself closer to the town the more the smell was hitting the back of her throat, making her want to heave and throw up. But she couldn't pin her finger on it, it was unusual and... grim. As Dimitri grabbed her arm, holding the rifle and carelessly aiming it into the town with a sweeping left to right motion they soon discovered what the smell was. A mountain of dead corpses piled on top of each other, flies buzzing around them with excitement; but something was different, these corpses didn't look humane. More... infected. There faces oozed with oils or sweat from them being controlled by something they could not help, skin rotting and missing limbs from their bodies. Some had more fresher features of bullet holes through their heads.

Eléonore quickly covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her shirt, Dimitri's face upturned in disgust as he mimicked her but instead covered his mouth and nose with his large masculine hand. “Oh god!” She muffled through the shirt, heaving to the scent as her eyes teared like the smell was burning her eyes. The slightest comment of Eléonore was probably the biggest mistake she could've made right now. A large stomach churning groan which what felt like it replied came from behind them. Dimitri turned his head very slowly with the response, “Run... Now...” With gritted teeth and a tensed body but she didn't move ; froze on the spot with fear. “Follow me...” Dimitri grabbed her small hand and dragged her quickly from the scenario which was about to happen to a grey bruised up car, nearly taking her from her feet and landing face first into the ground if she hadn't moved. Dimitri quickly opened the door for her and basically threw her into the car with the stress of the infected attracting more attention with the growls as it charged towards them with a jogging pace. Her threw the gun in the back seats of the car as he sat in the driver's seat, “Wind the window up !” Eléonore quickly grabbed the handle and quickly rotated it as the window choppily went up. Before it even fully closed the infected aggressively banged it's fist against the window screen, the aggression in his eyes as Eléonore screamed in shock staring into the pearl-like cataracts. Seeing past the over driven human from a virus they didn't need was a person screaming inside, begging for help and to return normal again but she couldn't do anything. Eléonore wasn't a genius, she was a baker and would always been known as a baker...

Dimitri flicked a few coloured wires until he heard the engine start, eyes lighting up with achievement as he observed the French woman glaring at the dead-man-walking. Slamming his foot on the acceleration peddle they sooner than later took off. The dead-man became a blur to Eléonore as they sped off, observing the cracks which had formed from the pounding fists upon the glass. She hadn't realised she had been holding her breath and let go, her whole body still tense and she rubbed her forehead with despair. She couldn't unsee what she had just seen and realised that this was more than just a war. It was survival too.


Great Story Skel. Can't wait to see how this character develops.

Thank you Dan <3

I really love how you transition into your own story with what happened is nicely done on your perspective. love the character so far too. Now can she bake some Canolis for Tony? hehe

Loved the story and await some more :)

Of course! And thank you, I really enjoy RPing her, it's pretty fun playing an innocent happy french woman who wants nothing but peace and friends xD Hopefully I can bump into you IG ;) 

get start to a great story,  details that made me hungry for bread, and very immersive. good job Helena  :)

I look forward to seeing your new character in game, we never play anymore :(

We definitely need to bump into each other! I miss playing with you <3 May have to give you some pumpkin soup she now makes xD

Happy to see you writing again Skeleton!

Thank you I'm enjoying writing a story of someone's life that isn't what actually happens in game now. <3

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Guest Max   
Guest Max

Not as good as Rivi's story, but still amazing ;)

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